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THE BOOK OF SCOTTISH POEMS. (fr

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Dilligence.

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Admitted by the Pape:
Sirs, I shall show you for my wage,
My pardons and my pilgrimage,

Whilk ye shall see and grape:1
I give to the devil, with good intent,
This unsell2 wicked New Testament,
With them that it translated:
Pardoners gets no charity
Sen layic men knew the verity,

Among the wives with wrinks and wiles,
Without that they debate it.
As all my marrowis 3 men beguiles
With our fair false flattery:

Yea all the crafts I ken, perqueir, J. Cou доиз радий

As I was teachèd by ane friar
Called Hypocrisy.

But now, alas! our great abusion
Is clearly knowen till our confusion;
That we may sore repent:

Of all credence now I am quite,
For ilk man holds me at despite

That reads the New Testament.

Dool fall the brain that has it wrought,

Be sure of priestis thou will get nae sup- Sae fall them that the book hame brought:

port.

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Als, I pray to the rood,
That Martin Luther, that false loun,4
Black Bullinger, and Melancthoun,

Had been smoorde 5 in their cud.
By Him that bore the crown of thorn,
I would Saint Paul had never been born,
And, als, I would his books

Were never read in kirk,

But, amongst friars into the mirk,
Or riven among rooks.

[Here shall he lay down his gear upon ane board, and say:]

My patent pardons, ye may see,
Come frae the Kan of Tartary,
Well sealed with oyster shells.

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Though ye have nae contrition,
Ye shall have full remission,

With help of books and bells.
Here is ane relict lang and braid,1
Of Fin Macoull2 the right chaft blade
With teeth and all together :
Of Collin's cow here is ane horn
For eating of MacConnal's corn

Was slain into Balquhidder.
Here is ane cord, both great and long,
Whilk hanged John the Armstrong,

Of good hemp soft and sound :
Good holy people, I stand for'd,
Whoever beis hangèd with this cord,
Needs never to be drowned.
The culum 3 of Saint Bride's cow,
The gruntil 4 of Saint Antony's sow,

Whilk bare his holy bell:
Whoever he be hears this bell clink,
Give me ane ducat for till drink,

He shall never gang to hell, Without he be of Belial born; Maisters, trow ye that this be scorn? Come win this pardon, come. Who loves their wives not with their heart, I have power them for till part:

Me think you deaf and dumb. Has none of you crust wicked wives, That holds you untill sturt and strives,

Come take my dispensation :

Of that cumber5 I shall make you quite, Howbeit yourselves be in the wyte,

And make ane false narration. Come, win the pardon; now let see, For meal, for malt or for money,

For cock, hen, goose, or gryce Of relicts, here I have ane hunder. Why come ye not? this is ane wonder I trow ye be not wise.

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separated, much to their mutual satisfaction, by the performance of a ceremony of the coarsest possible description. Then the Pardoner's boy, Wilkin, makes his appearance, and gives us a peep into the secret of relic manufacture.]

Wilkin.

Hoaw! maister, hoaw! Where are ye now?

Pardoner.

I am here, Wilkin, widdie fow.1

Wilkin.

Sir, I have done your bidding, For I have found here ane great horse bone,

Ane fairer saw ye never none,

Upon dame Flesher's midding.
Sir, ye may gar the wives trow,
It is ane bone of Saint Bride's cow;
Good for the fever quartane:

Sir, will ye rule 2 this relic weel,
All the wives will both kiss and kneel
Betwixt this and Dumbartane.

[Here shall PAUPER rise and rax him.]*

Pauper.

What thing was yon, that I heard crack 3 and cry?

I have been dreamand and drivland of my kye.

With my right hand my whole body I sain, 4

Saint Bride, Saint Bride, send me my kye again!

I see standand yonder ane holy man,
To make me help, let me see gif he can :
Hail maister, God speed you! and good

morn.

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[Here shall he sain him with his relics.]

Now lose thy purse, and lay down thy offrand,1

Pardoner.

Ane thousand year, I lay upon thy head, With totiens quotiens: now, make na mair plead:1

Thou hast received thy pardon now already.

Pauper.

But I can see nothing, sir, by our lady: Forsooth, maister, I trow I be not wise To pay ere I have seen my merchandise. That ye have gotten my groat full sair Irue: Sir, whether is your pardon black or blue?

And thou shall have my pardon even frae Maister, sen ye have tane frae me my

hand.

cunzie, 2

With ropes, and relics, I shall thee sain My merchandise shew me, withouten

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sunzie ;3

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Pauper.
Nae, then gossip, give me my groat again.
What say ye maister, call ye this good
reason?

That he should promise me ane gay pardon,
And he receive my money in his stead,
Syne make me nae payment till I be dead.
When I am dead, I wat full sickerly,
My silly soul will pass to purgatory :
Declare me this: now God, nor Belial bind
thee,

When I am there, curst carl, where shall
I find thee?

Not into heaven, but rather into hell:
When thou art there thou cannot help
thysell;

When thou art come my dolours till abate,
Or I thee find, my hips will get ane hait.

Trows thou, butcher, that I will buy blind lambs:

Give me my groat; the devil dryte in thy gams.

Pardoner.

Swith! stand aback! I trow this man be mangèd : 1

Thou gets not this, carl, though thou should be hanged.

Pauper.

Give me my groat weel bound intill ane clout,

Or, by God's bread, Robin 2 shall bear ane

rout.

[Here shall they fight, and PAUPER shall cast down the board and relics in the water.]

JOHN BELLENDEN.

1492 (?)—1550 (?).

It was

probably during his temporary alienation from court that Lindsay, in the "Complaint of the Papyngo," describes him as

THIS learned ecclesiastic is more dis- | inconstancy of court favour.
tinguished as a prose writer and scholar,
than as a poet; and there is no reason
for supposing that he cultivated poetry
to any great extent. Neither the date
nor the place of his birth are known—
Haddington and Berwick shires are the
only places even suggested. The date of
his matriculation at St Andrews, 1508,
gives the nearest approximation as data
for estimating the time of his birth. He
completed his education at the University
of Paris, where he took his degree of
doctor of divinity. He himself states
that he was in the service of James
V. from his infancy, as clerk of his
accounts, but that he experienced the

"Ane plant of poetis, called Ballendyne,
Whose ornate workis my wit cannot define :
Get he into court auctoritie,
He will precell Quintyn and Kennedy."

It would not be long after this that he was recalled, for, in 1530, and the three following years, it is shown by the Treasurer's accounts that he was engaged upon the Translation of Livy, and Boece's History of Scotland, by

Mad.

2 Robin Rome-raker, the Pardoner.

request of the King. For the former, which only extended to the first five books, he was paid £36, and for the latter £78.

But besides these payments, he was promoted to the Archdeaconry of Moray, and, about the same time, was made a Canon of Ross.

A POLITICAL HOMILY.
Proheme to Boece's Chronicles.

I.

Thou martial book! pass to the noble
prince,

King James the Fift, my Sovereign maist
And gif some time thou gettis audience,
preclair,1
In humble wise unto his grace declare
My wakerif nightis and my labour sare,
Whilk ithandly2 has for his pleasure tak,
While golden Titan with his burnand chair
Has past all signis of the Zodiac.

harrows

II.

Has filled her granges 3 full of every corn;
And stormy Chiron with his bow and

The translation of Boece was printed soon after it was written, but the year is not given in the title-page or elsewhere. Livy remained in MS. till 1822, when it was published in the complete edition of his works edited by Maitland, from the MS. in the Advocate's Library. These two works, says While busy Ceres with her plough and Dr Irving, "exhibit the most ample specimen of ancient Scottish prose that has descended to our times, and are distinguished beyond most others by their fluency and neatness of style; nor can we peruse these translations without being convinced that the writer's learning and talents had qualified him for original compositions." The "Epistle to James V.," which prefaces Boece's History, is written with a manly boldness and dignity, which is creditable to both the King and the author. It also conveys a high idea of his skill and taste in the art of poetical composition.

Bellenden was strenuously opposed to the Reformation; but having gone to Rome, he is said to have died there in 1550, before that mighty current of religious and political thought had swept away that ecclesiastical system which, if all its priesthood were Bellendens, would at least have presented a more venerable aspect to posterity.

arrows

Has all the cloudis of the heavenis shorn,
And schill Tryton with his windy horn
Ourewhelmed all the flowand ocean;
And Phoebus turned under Capricorn,
The samen greis 4 where I first began.

III.

Sen thou art drawen sae compendius
Frae flowand Latin into vulgar prose,
Show now what princes been maist
vicious,

And wha has been of chivalry the rose.
Wha did their kingrik5 in maist honourjois, 6
And with their blood our liberties has coft ;7
Regarding not to die among their foes,
Sae that they might in memory be brought.

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